Sam Evans vs The Universe
by Howling1
Summary: Based off of "Scott Pilgrim vs. The World". In order to date Kurt, Sam must first defeat the League of Evil Exes. Considering Kurt has never had a boyfriend, Sam finds this a little confusing.  Written for a prompt on the glee crack meme. Please R&R!


A/N: This is based heavily on "Scott Pilgrim vs. The World"; if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it! Written for a prompt on the Glee Crack Meme on Livejournal. Enjoy!

* * *

**SAM EVANS VS. THE UNIVERSE**

**

* * *

**"Uh-huh. Well... yeah. Call me back if you need anything. And, um... tell him I'm sorry."

Sam bit his lip as he pulled his cell phone away from his ear, the letters "DISCONNECTED" flashing back at him in bright red. He and Finn had made plans to hang out that night — it was Friday, after all — but Finn had just called with the rather abrupt news that Kurt had had his heart broken, and as such Finn was staying in to comfort him (ie, make popcorn and watch terrible sitcoms with him) like a good older brother. Sam couldn't fault him for that, as he'd gone through much the same thing when his little sister, who was twelve, had been dumped by her first boyfriend. (His offers to punch the bastard had been appreciated, but ultimately unnecessary.)

What Kurt really _needed_, Sam decided as he pulled his shirt off and set about getting ready for bed, was some sort of... Litmus test. Some system where the other members of Glee could decide if Kurt's suitor was worthy boyfriend material or not. Blaine had appeared to be when Kurt introduced him at the Christmas party, but no one had really talked to him and as such, could never have anticipated that the guy would turn him down. No, Blaine saw Kurt as a little brother, and nothing more, and when Kurt, oblivious, had proposed that they date, the reaction had been ... not quite what he had expected.

If the other guys had had Kurt's back, Sam thought as he brushed his teeth, maybe such a reaction could have been avoided. It wasn't the end of the world, certainly, but Sam knew that Kurt was feeling like it was. Sam had experienced the sensation himself when he'd broken up with Quinn and he'd had to take his promise ring back. (He had just told her he was bisexual; she did not take it well.) It'd been a couple of months ago, but it still rang as fresh in his mind as if it'd just happened... Sam shoved his toothbrush back in its drawer a little harder than necessary.

He'd considered calling Kurt in the ensuing few weeks after the breakup, either to ask for advice about the whole 'liking guys' thing or to ask him to please talk some freaking _sense_ into Quinn, but ultimately decided that it wasn't his place. Besides, Kurt was at Dalton, and had his own life. He was trying to put the unfortunate incident that was McKinley High School behind him, and Sam could respect that.

Except now Kurt had an even bigger dilemma on his mind. Sighing, Sam went back to his room and picked his cell phone up from where he'd dropped it on his desk, thumbing over Kurt's name in his contact list. His fingers hovered over the green "call" button... but, with another sigh, Sam instead put his phone back down, shut off the light, and climbed into bed, shoving aside several volumes of comics that had collected during the day as he wormed his way under the covers.

He'd talk to Kurt soon, Sam decided. And when he did, he'd mention the whole idea of the 'test' that his ensuing boyfriend(s) would have to go through. Sam's last thought before drifting off to sleep completely was to idly wonder why he was so concerned with Kurt's happiness in the first place.

* * *

**THE NEXT DAY or something**

Sam's eyes snapped open as his alarm went off. He could see the letters "**BRIIINNNG**" appearing in bright bold font over his shrieking alarm clock.

Well. _That_ was unusual.

** Sam Evans  
16 Years Old  
Rating: Awesome**

His sister's voice floated up from downstairs. "Sam, you're gonna be late!"

_Late for what?_ Sam wondered, casting a glance around his room and noticing another bright bold group of letters on top of an arrow pointed down at his textbooks: **SCHOOL.**

Oh, right.

Accompanied by several whooshing sounds, Sam hopped out of bed, pulled on another shirt, sniffed it to make sure it was clean (**IT WASN'T**), decided he didn't care, and made for the stairs. Rather than walking down them, though, he hopped onto the railing and slid, approaching 20 MPH (according to the blinker that appeared beside him) before he reached the end and jumped off, sticking the landing.

"You are _so_ weird," his sister commented from her place at the breakfast table, before offering him a box of cereal. "Here. This one has +3 to intelligence and +1 to speed."

"Sweet," Sam said, pouring himself a bowl.

* * *

** McKinley High School  
Location: Lima, Ohio  
Fun Fact: Named after 25th U.S. President  
Fun Fact #2: This place blows**

"Kurt!" Sam said as he entered the front doors, noticing his friend twirling the dial at his old locker, looking depressed. "What are you doing here?"

"Sam," Kurt said in quiet greeting, slamming his locker shut with a little too much force. "I decided that since Dalton doesn't have very much to offer me anymore, I'd transfer back here. Dad had a long talk with Principal Figgins and had some pretty strict anti-bullying rules set in. I should be okay."

"Well, that's good," Sam said encouragingly, but Kurt only offered him a weak smile before dropping his head back down, clutching his textbooks tightly. "Here," Sam offered. "I'll walk you to class."

"Thanks," Kurt said, and fell into step beside Sam, eyes scanning the hall warily.

"Dude, relax," Sam said, after several moments of this. "I've got your back." He smiled and clapped a friendly hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt visibly winced, but didn't break away. When several moments passed, Sam hesitated, but offered, "I'm sorry to hear about... you know. Are you doing okay?"

Kurt gave another half-smile. "I'm fine. Well, that's a lie, but I'm ... dealing." He paused for a moment, then added, "I just... couldn't really face having to deal with that every day. Having to be in class with him, sing with him, and everything... I know that sounds idiotic."

"Dude, you're not an idiot. Love makes us do all kinds of crazy shit," Sam said. "And that guy totally led you on."

Kurt shook his head. "No, I just... really read too much into things, I suppose. Although I will admit, that's not the only reason I transferred back here."

"Oh, yeah? What else?" Sam asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

Kurt was silent for a moment. "It's kind of hard to explain... but here, I got bullied all the time. Obviously, or I wouldn't have left. But still... I never had to compromise who I was. I could stand out, be as flamboyant as I wanted, and my friends would back me up for it, for the little good it did me. At Dalton they told me to 'stop trying so hard', 'blend in', 'tone it down', you know... it got old after awhile. Plus, I never really connected with the Warblers like I did with all of you. I just... I missed you."

"We all missed you too, man," Sam said at once, surprised at how much he meant it. "Glee just isn't the same without you hassling Mr. Schue to loosen up."

"You weren't even _there_ for that," Kurt retorted, swatting Sam with one hand; Sam laughed.

"And for the record?" Sam added as they reached Kurt's English class, stopping at the wall to continue talking. "I would _never_ ask you to 'tone it down'."

Kurt blinked, and was opening his mouth to reply, when suddenly—

"_**SAM EVANS!**_**"**

Sam whipped his head around as the hallway suddenly cleared. Standing at the other end, hands on his hips in a triumphant pose, was none other than—

"_Finn?" _Kurt exclaimed, looking past Sam in utter astonishment and confusion. "Why are you wearing your Gaga dress?"

"It's my superhero costume!" Finn retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kurt brought a hand up to massage his forehead. "Okay, fine. And you're dressed like a superhero because...?"

"Kurt, I'm not talking to you; I'm talking to _him!_" Finn shouted, pointing a finger directly at Sam in a very theatrical manner.

Sam's eyes darted back and forth. "What?"

"My _name_ is Finn Hudson!" Finn exclaimed, thrusting a hand up into the air. "And I am Kurt Hummel's _FIRST __**EVIL EX-BOYFRIEND!**_**"**

Utter silence followed this statement. A question mark appeared in the air above Sam's head.

Finally, he turned to Kurt. "Ex-boyfriend?"

"I'm just as confused as you are," Kurt said, and indeed, there was a question mark in the air above his head as well. Kurt pointed to it. "See?"

Sam turned back to Finn. "Finn, what's this about?"

"If you are going to date my stepbrother, you must first defeat the League of Kurt's Evil Exes!" Finn exclaimed. "They and they alone control the future of Kurt's love life!"

"Evil Exes, Finn?" Kurt asked skeptically. "I've never even had a boyfriend."

"Your logicalness has no place in our conversation! Begone with you!" Finn said, and then immediately looked sheepish. "Uh, sorry, Kurt. You can stay if you want."

"Stay for what? What is going on?"

"To make sure that Sam is good enough for you, I challenge him to ... _**A SING OFF**__,"_ Finn said dangerously, and Sam arched an eyebrow.

"Really. And why do I have to do that?" Sam asked.

"_During_ the spring semester of last year, I performed 'Hello, I Love You' for the Glee Club, and noticed that Kurt had a very... _interesting_ reaction," Finn said, as he and Sam circled each other like cats in the cleared-out hallway, the other students watching. "Apparently, husky baritone voices just... _do_ something for him, and so it is in this area, Sam Evans, that you must prove your worthiness!"

Sam glanced to Kurt, who had turned bright pink. "Is that true?" Sam asked.

"No," Kurt squeaked, as the words **(HE'S LYING)** appeared above him.

"Consider our fight _begun!_" Finn exclaimed, and musical chords began to play from out of nowhere, Finn singing alone immediately.

"_I want your body, mind, soul, etcetera  
And one day, you'll see..._"

"Adam Lambert. One of my few weaknesses," Kurt mumbled, knees buckling, and Finn grinned as he continued.

"_And I don't want anyone instead of you  
Oh, babe, I'm goin' crazy—_"

"_And I ain't never met nobody betterer,"_ Sam interrupted, voice shaking as he looked toward Kurt worriedly. (There were little hearts in his eyes — literally — as he stared at Finn.) Sam didn't think he'd ever heard this song before, but somehow, he knew what to do. "_You're someone else's, baby..."_

Finn broke in with, "_I'm just sick of livin' for other people,  
Took meeting you to realize  
I don't wanna lose you, I wanna keep you  
Put your little hand in mine and look into my eyes, baby, eyes!_"

"_Oh, you make me wanna listen to music again,"_ Sam said, taking over for Finn again; the other boy glared at him darkly. "_Yeah, you make me wanna listen to music again..._"

Sam's voice grew stronger as he took on the next verse. Finn looked _pissed_, and that could only mean he was doing well.

"_There had been many moons before I met you  
And I ain't going nowhere  
And now you give me back my raison d'etre  
And I'm inspired again..."_

Finn jumped on the next part, taking over for Sam, but his voice was now the one that was shaking and he wobbled unsteadily as he and Sam continued circling each other.

"_And I know in some ways I'm kinda evil,  
Got my roots and you got ties;  
But my heart's no stranger to upheaval,  
Put your little hand in mine and look into my eyes, baby, eyes!"_

During the instrumental break, Sam looked to the crowd: They were swaying and clapping, seemingly enjoying this, and Kurt was grinning widely as he watched Sam sing. They made eye contact, and Kurt nodded, as if to say, _you can do this_. Emboldened, Sam turned back to Finn.

"How are you his ex, again?" he asked.

"Crushes count!" Finn said, defensively.

"Sam!" came a voice, and Sam whipped his head around to see Puck, stepping forward from the crowd and holding out an electric guitar. "Catch!"

He threw it forward, and Sam caught it, slipping the strap around himself in one fluid motion. Without even thinking, he broke into the guitar solo, little bolts of lightning appearing in the air around him as he lost himself in the music. The cheering from the crowd grew louder: Sam was winning.

As he played, Sam sang the last verse. _"I'm just sick of livin' for other people,  
Took meeting you to realize,  
I don't wanna lose you, I wanna keep you  
Put your little hands in mine and look into my eyes, baby, eyes!_"

Still playing, Sam advanced on Finn, who had stopped singing and was holding his hands over his ears, overwhelmed by the sheer power of Sam's voice.

"_Yeah, you make me wanna listen to music again!_" Sam exclaimed as the music around him ended, strumming a last, long chord on the guitar, and the sound waves barreled toward Finn; as they met him, Finn's eyes widened — and then he exploded into coins.

They hovered in the air for a moment, then plummeted to the floor with a soft set of _clink_s, as the words "**+1000**" appeared above them. Sam tossed the guitar back to Puck and bent down, collecting them.

"Sweet! Two bucks, that'll buy me lunch," Sam said, counting it.

Kurt approached Sam's side, staring apprehensively at the spot where Finn had disappeared. "Is he—"

"He should regenerate in the choir room; that's our home base," said Puck with a shrug as he walked past them, guitar in hand. "I'll see you later, Sam."

"_Our_ home base—?" Kurt shouted after him shrilly, but was cut off as the bell rang, and everyone around them scrambled to get to class.

* * *

"Well, that was definitely interesting," Sam said nonchalantly, taking a big bite out of the delicious sandwich that Finn's coins had bought him.

Across from him, Kurt groaned and let his head fall onto the cafeteria table. "'Interesting' doesn't even begin to describe it."

"Hey guys," came a cheerful voice, and Sam turned to see Finn standing beside them, back in normal clothes, holding a lunch tray. "Can I join you?" he added, tentatively.

Kurt glared at him, but offered him the empty seat beside him. Finn sat happily.

** Finn Hudson  
Relation: Kurt's Stepbrother  
Status: Recently defeated, but okay with it**

"Finn, what the hell kind of scheme have you and your assortment of neanderthal friends dreamed up now?" Kurt demanded, forgoing small talk.

Finn stabbed a fork into his tater tots as he replied cheerfully, "Simple. If Sam's gonna date you, then he has to defeat the League of Evil Exes that Artie and I assembled. We got the idea from this one movie we saw; it was really cool."

"Finn, Sam and I aren't even _dating_," Kurt said, exasperatedly, and Finn paused, fork to his open mouth.

"You're not?" he said, finally.

"Finn, could you give us a minute?" Sam asked, before Kurt could reply.

Finn shrugged, getting up. "Sure. I forgot my drink anyway."

As he departed, Kurt turned to Sam. "_What was that?_" he hissed. "Of course we're not dating! You're straight!"

"Bi, actually," said Sam with a smirk, and as Kurt's mouth fell open, he added, "And I dunno. I think ... I think it'd be kinda cool to date you."

Kurt turned bright pink, and stuttered for a few moments before finally replying with, "That's... quite flattering."

"And since the League is apparently comin' after me, we might as well make it official," Sam added offhandedly. "So... you in?"

Kurt exhaled; after a long moment, he looked back up at Sam. "Give me some time to think about it?" He offered Sam a half-smile. "You're kind of the first guy to ever show any interest in me. All of this, it's ... well, it's a lot to take in."

Sam grinned, and there was no malice in his voice as he said, "I can wait. It's better than a 'no', anyway."

"...I suppose," Kurt mused, lost in thought, as he looked at Sam. Sam quirked an eyebrow and raised his water bottle to his lips. Kurt, realizing he was staring, blushed furiously again.

Fortunately, Finn chose that time to come back, sipping from a can of Pepsi Lime (the words "**+3 to will**" appeared beside his head), and sat back down. "We cool, guys?"

Kurt glowered at Finn furiously, but Sam said, "Yeah. We're cool." And then added, "By the way, the comic is way better."

* * *

Fresh off of football practice, Sam was headed to the choir room, running a hand through damp hair, when someone abruptly grabbed him and pulled him into a random door.

**LEVEL 2: BROOM CLOSET**

"What—" Sam said, then blinked as the bare lightbulb above him was turned on, illuminating the sight in front of him. "Puck?"

** Noah Puckerman  
17 Years Old  
Women He's Slept With: 13  
Men He's Slept With: 3**

"Sam Evans," Puck said ominously, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest, "I am Kurt Hummel's second evil ex-boyfriend."

"...Why are you naked?" Sam asked.

Puck arched an eyebrow, smirking and showing not a hint of embarrassment. "Enjoying the view, Evans? Don't worry; that's part of the challenge."

Sam tried very, very hard to only look at Puck's eyes. "That's — I don't — how the hell are you Kurt's ex?" he settled on.

Puck shrugged. "Only way Santana and Brittany would go for a threesome was if I showed them pictures of me making out with guys. Apparently it turns them on or something? Whatever, I was horny and Kurt was willing, so we made out. He doesn't like to talk about it."

"I can't imagine why," Sam said, fighting hard to keep his voice even. "Did this making out lead to... y'know. _Other_ stuff?"

Puck smirked again. "Oh no, Evans. That's _your_ job. I challenge you to ... _**A SEX OFF.**_" His voice echoed ominously on the last word, despite the fact that they were in a broom cupboard.

"...Come again?" Sam said, after a moment, before realizing he could have phrased that better.

"It's simple. We have sex. Whoever comes first, loses," Puck said nonchalantly. "And I warn you, you're dealing with **The Sex Shark™**, so it's probably no contest."

"_No._ I won't. Absolutely not," Sam said immediately. "That's not even— you _helped_ me, Puck. Earlier today, when I was battling Finn. Why would you do that if you're gonna fight me now?"

"Dude, I've wanted to bang you ever since 'Billionaire'. I almost jumped your bones right there in the choir room," Puck said. "I _had_ to make sure you'd make it to The Sex Off."

"Right, so instead of just asking me out like a normal dude, you did... this." Sam gestured to Puck and his nakedness. "Why do we have to—"

"Rules of the game, Evans," Puck interrupted with another shrug. "You wanna date Kurt, you gotta go through us first."

Suddenly Puck was right in front of Sam, face inches from his, voice dripping with seduction as he added, "You _do_ want to date Kurt, don't you?"

Sam took a long moment before he very gently reached up and pushed Puck back a few inches. "I do. But I don't think having sex with you is gonna win me any points with him."

"Fine," Puck said, rolling his eyes, "We'll jerk off. Don't even have to touch each other. Same rules apply, though; whoever finishes first —"

"Disappears into a pile of coins, yeah, yeah, I got it," Sam said. He reached for his own jeans hesitantly, as Puck waited with an expectant look, but before he'd even undone his belt, Sam had a wicked idea. A lightbulb appeared above his head, further illuminating the cramped cupboard.

"Puck," Sam said, and Puck tilted his head. "Angelina Jolie."

"What?" Puck said, uncomprehending.

"Angelina Jolie. Naked, in a bathtub, with soap _all over her_," Sam said, grinning evilly. Beside Puck, a "horniness meter" appeared in the air, with a little blue bar down at 2 out of 10. "She's rubbing it into her skin. Into her stomach, along her thighs, across her boobs..."

4 out of 10. "Dude, not fair," Puck complained, looking down at himself. "Stop it."

"Santana and Brittany. They're making out in their Cheerio uniforms. And they're going commando."

6 out of 10. "Oh, god," Puck groaned, and started to reach down before he thought better of it. "Wait, no. Stop!"

"Santana, reclining on a sofa. She's only wearing a bra and panties. She's slowly reaching up to take off her bra... her breasts slip free... she starts pulling the panties down..."

"Stop!" Puck pleaded, not even touching himself and his horniness meter was at 9. "Stop!"

"Oh, no, Puck," Sam laughed, advancing on him, and Puck fell to the floor, reaching out to the shelves around him to steady himself as he gaped, open-mouthed, up at Sam. "I know your secret. Who do you find more attractive than anyone alive?"

Puck, breathing heavily, didn't answer; the blue bar was almost at its peak.

"That's right," Sam said, reaching past him and grabbing an object that was leaning next to one of the shelves. "Yourself."

He held up a mirror in front of Puck, and Puck's mouth dropped open. He groaned, body shaking—

And exploded into a haze of coins, his groan the only other thing he left behind. A bright blue "**+2000**" appeared in the air.

"Didn't even have to take my pants off." Sam smirked as he gathered up the change — sixty-nine cents, naturally. He pocketed it, then turned around and reached for the door. He pulled it open— and found a very unwelcome surprise standing in front of it.

"You wanna tell me what the _fuck_ you were saying about me in there?" Santana demanded, poking him in the chest.

**

* * *

A SEVERE ASS-KICKING LATER**

"Sam, wait up!" Kurt called from behind him, and Sam slowed from his walk through the parking lot to allow Kurt to catch up. The smaller boy gazed up at his face. "Why are there bruises all over you?"

"Don't worry about it," Sam said with a wince, and held up a container of guava juice. "This has +5 to healing; they'll all be gone after I drain the bottle."

"Okay..." Kurt said, slowly. "Do you know why Puck just randomly appeared stark naked in the middle of Glee?"

"He must've regenerated," Sam said easily, sliding an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Was he embarrassed?"

"Not really — you know him, always loves a chance to show off his body," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "What did you have to _do?"_

Sam hesitated. "He... challenged me to a sex-off."

Kurt's eyes bugged out of his head like a cartoon character's. "_He did WHAT?_" he shrieked, and an emoticon appeared beside him: **:O**

"I didn't have sex with him," Sam added hastily. "I managed to make him... finish... without touching him."

Kurt blinked. "That's... quite a skill you have there."

Sam finally laughed, despite the pain it caused him. "Or maybe Puck's not quite the sex shark that he says he is."

Kurt blinked, then laughed too; Sam took a moment to notice how nice it was when he laughed, and resolved to make Kurt do it more often.

"Well, anyway," Kurt said, still giggling as he pulled out his keys, "Do you need a ride home?"

"I have my own car, but thanks," Sam smiled. "Though that Navigator there is pretty slick."

"It's my baby," Kurt acknowledged, clicking the lock, and the car chirped happily (the words **BEEP BEEP** appearing beside it). "I'll see you later, Sam."

"Kurt," Sam called after him, and Kurt paused as he opened the driver's door. Sam's expression was serious. "You doing okay?"

Kurt smiled, and it was a real, genuine smile. "I've never been better."

**

* * *

LEVEL 3: SAM'S NEIGHBORHOOD**

Sam was really hoping that school being over meant he could take a break from this whole business of fighting evil exes, but as he pulled into his driveway to find Artie sitting in his wheelchair on the front lawn, he realized with a sigh that this was not to be the case.

"How are you an ex of Kurt's?" he asked nonchalantly as he swung his truck's door shut, approaching Artie.

"He straightened my tie one time," Artie offered, primly. "In a very seductive manner."

Sam stared at him. "Dude, if that counts, I'm gonna have to fight, like, twenty guys."

Artie shook his head. "I don't think so. Kurt doesn't like to touch people."

"Okay, whatever," Sam said. "So what do I have to do with this one?"

Artie smirked, and there was a dark gleam in his eyes. "Survive."

Before Sam could even blink, long blades of metal extended from Artie's chair, and Artie was lifted into the air. With a sequence of _clink_s, the wheelchair extended itself, growing out, up, and around Artie, taller and taller by the second. Sam watched, open-mouthed, as a glass dome extended from the mass of metal surrounding Artie and encased itself over his head, and the rest of what used to be the wheelchair continued forming itself into—

"Oh, _no,_" Sam breathed.

Standing in front of him was a hulking metal robot reminiscent of _The Iron Giant_, with what looked like a laser gun in place of one arm, and Artie's body sitting where the head would be. Tall, powerful, and deadly, the robot shifted slightly, as Artie tested out its functions.

** Artie Abrams  
Skills: +100 Technical Wizardry  
Fun Fact: You might want to run**

With another grin, Artie extended the robot's gun toward Sam.

"_Shit,_" Sam thought, and jumped.

Immediately, a bolt of blue lightning shot out of the gun, missing Sam by inches as he rolled on the ground to avoid it. Artie turned the gun, following the motion of Sam's body as he rolled in a circle around the robot. Sam stopped, made a split-second decision and dived into one of the bushes on his lawn.

**Fun Fact: It was a rosebush**

"_YEOUCH!"_ Sam cried as the thorns pricked him from all directions.

Above him, Artie's robot gun retracted into his arm; out of it came another, different-looking gun, and he aimed it at the offending bush. Sam popped out of the top, leaves falling from his head, just in time to see it aimed directly at him.

With no choice, Sam ducked back into the bush, letting out another "_YEOUCH!_" as more thorns pricked him.

Blue fire erupted from the end of Artie's gun, searing over Sam's head, and Sam rolled backward, out of the bush and into the street in front of his house, the fire following him all the while. The smell of burning asphalt assaulted Sam's nostrils as he scrambled unsteadily to his feet and ran, looking back over his shoulder to see the robot stepping into the street and following him.

Sam felt like he was in a bad B-movie as he rounded the corner, the robot bearing down on him from behind. The fire had run out and Artie was exchanging it for yet another gun, the electronics humming and whizzing as the arm changed itself around. This time, it was a gun of what looked like regular water; but as Sam dodged a blast from it, the ground where the liquid had landed sizzled and bubbled and Sam realized it was blue acid.

"Dude, seriously, what's with all the blue shit?" Sam shouted, dodging another blast of fire.

"It's my favorite color," Artie shot back evenly, voice weirdly magnified and distorted by the robot's mechanics.

Sam paid dearly for his moment of distraction: Artie's next shot hit him right in the ankle, and Sam yelled as he felt the acid eating through his skin. Making a sharp turn down a different street to buy him some precious time, Sam leaped a fence into a neighboring backyard, then swung his backpack around and frantically dug through for the container of guava juice; when he found it, he reached down and poured it on his ankle.

"Oh, thank God," he muttered as he watched his skin heal itself up before his eyes.

"_**SAM EVANS!**_**" **came Artie's distorted voice, and Sam looked up to see the robot's gun mere millimeters from his face again; Sam fell to the ground and frantically began inching away, the robot keeping pace with him as it walked slowly forward. The neighbors' fence crumpled underneath one of the metallic feet with an ominous _crunch_.

"Well, Sam Evans, it appears you have reached the end of your journey," Artie said from his place in the robot's helmet, sounding almost regretful. "Shame. I really thought you had what it took to date Kurt."

"Who says I don't?" Sam shot back, still inching backward. "I hardly think it's up to you and your gigantic robot to decide his future."

"Me and my giant robot will do just fine, thank you," said Artie, and a steady humming sound came from the gun as it again powered up. "Any last words?"

"Can you swim?" Sam said, raising his eyebrows.

He'd backed straight to the edge of the swimming pool in the backyard, and now he dove in; the robot, unable to stop in time, wobbled precariously at the edge before it, too, fell in.

"_NOOOOOO!_" Artie bellowed as his robot suit fizzled and cracked, the water short-circuiting it; its limbs thrashed frantically, trying to find some purchase but unable to do so. Sam, surfacing in the shallow end of the pool, watched the robot turn to face him, its gun useless — and then the whole thing exploded.

Coins and fiery ash pelted Sam and he dove back underwater, almost missing the "**+3000**" that appeared amongst the chaos, and he held his breath as long as he could before he surfaced again. A startlingly calm sight greeted him: aside from the coins lining the bottom of the pool, and the smashed fence, Artie may as never well have been there.

Sam sighed; these coins were going to take awhile to collect. At least his swimming level was +50.

**

* * *

THE NEXT DAY (again)**

Sam barely restrained himself from looking all over the parking lot like a paranoid lunatic as he tentatively approached the halls of McKinley. None of the Glee guys were in sight, which was good; he didn't think he could stand another fight right now. What was curious, however, was the fact that he couldn't find Kurt. They usually met up before classes began, but the other boy was nowhere to be seen. Sam decided not to worry about it, not wanting to seem too clingy since Kurt hadn't technically said yes to his dating proposal yet.

"Hey, Brittany," he offered as he passed the blonde cheerleader on the steps of the school.

"Hey, Sam," Brittany said cheerfully, and punched him in the face.

Sam swore as he fell backward, hands going to his nose as he landed, body splayed awkwardly on the steps. "What the _hell?_" he exclaimed. "Brittany, why did you—"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you," Brittany said (in that same maddeningly cheerful tone), "I used to date Kurt."

** Brittany S. Pierce  
IQ: Really Damn Low  
Skills: +200 Cheerleading**

Sam lowered his hands from his face. "But... you're a _girl_," he said, uncomprehending.

Brittany nodded enthusiastically, ponytail bobbing behind her. "We totally made out one time. He was dressed like his dad; it was really hot. And he had soft baby hands."

Sam blinked. "I... wasn't around for that."

"I think I'll make out with his dad next," Brittany said, still off in her own little world. "I wonder if he has soft baby hands too?"

"I think his _wife_ would have a problem with that," Sam said, standing slowly. "Not to mention he probably would, too."

Brittany blinked. "Kurt's married?"

Instead of answering, Sam retaliated with a punch of his own, but Brittany dodged it and did several backflips, hands finally landing on the guardrail to the stairs as she balanced on it. "I've been practicing my handstands," Brittany said, letting go with one hand and extending it to the side, so she was balanced on just the other. "What do you think?"

"It's very impressive, but aren't we supposed to be fighting?" Sam asked, nonetheless mesmerized as he watched her.

"Oh, yeah." With that, Brittany swung her body around, and before Sam could react she'd driven her feet into his chest, sending him flying backward into the railing behind him. Sam gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and he slid to the ground. Brittany hopped off the rail and then — like it was nothing — picked Sam up by his foot and threw him toward the school building. The word "AAAAAAH!" trailed in the air behind Sam as he screamed.

Sam slammed bodily into the outside wall of the school, dust spiraling around him, before he fell, taking several bricks with him and landing in a heap.

Panting, Sam squinted upward, into the sun. A slim body was standing above him, encased in shadow. "Kurt?" Sam gasped, hopefully.

"Close, but no cigar, dickwad," came a voice, and Sam groaned.

** Santana Lopez  
Dating: Brittany (?)  
Fun Fact: She's a total bitch**

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday, okay?" Sam asked, struggling to extract himself from the pile of bricks.

"Not that I care — because I really don't — oh, for God's sake," Santana said, reaching a hand down and yanking Sam upward, pulling him to his feet. Sam wobbled unsteadily. "Anyway, I need to end this fight so Brit and I can get our mack on, so: When she raises her leg, point upward."

Sam glanced behind her; Brittany was heading their way, taking great, bouncing strides and clapping with glee. Then Santana's words registered with him. "Wait. What?"

"You'll get it." With that, Santana punched Sam in the stomach; wheezing, Sam fell to the ground again. Santana stepped aside, and Brittany appeared above Sam, tilting her head down at him like a curious puppy.

"I'm going to end you now," she said brightly, and raised her leg to bring down a fatal kick. Sam noticed with abrupt surprise that she was in her Cheerios skirt — and she was wearing spankies. Slowly Brittany brought her foot down, and something clicked in Sam's mind.

Remembering Santana's words, he closed his eyes and extended his finger upward — and felt it hit a very sensitive part of Brittany indeed.

Brittany froze where she was and gasped, before her face broke into a wide grin. Behind her, Santana smirked.

"That part's my favorite," Brittany said happily, and then she exploded into coins, the words "**+4000**" blinking in their midst. Sam shut his eyes as they rained down on him, and when he opened them again, Santana was above him once more, arms crossed over her chest.

"Point upward?" Sam finally asked, stricken.

"What can I say?" Santana asked, grinning evilly. "It's her weak spot."

* * *

Sam tried not to think too hard about the last 36 hours as he walked to lunch. In just over a day, he had: 1) blown Finn to bits with sound waves; 2) made Puck orgasm so hard he burst; 3) battled Artie in a giant robot; and 4) accidentally fingered Brittany. All for the privilege of dating Kurt, who, Sam noticed with disappointment, was still nowhere to be found as he scanned the cafeteria.

Sam sat at an empty table and ate lunch by himself, not feeling particularly social since, after all, he'd had to fight a third of the Glee club so far. Given that they were supposed to be his friends, Sam couldn't help feeling irked, even though there seemed to be little malice in their actions. It was more out of concern for Kurt than anything; that, at least, Sam could understand.

But seriously, where _was_ Kurt?

Sam felt a body brush past him, and suddenly there was a note in his soup. He groaned, fishing it out and wiping chicken noodle off of it.

_Meet us in the choir room in five minutes_.

Sam looked up, but couldn't see anybody in the room that he recognized. He then turned back to the note and bit his lip, seriously debating not going... but it wasn't like he really had a choice. Sighing, he got to his feet and threw out the rest of his soup.

"Hey, Sam," Mr. Schuester said as Sam passed him in the hallway. "Everything going okay?"

** William Schuester  
Ranking: Teacher  
Cluelessness: Maximum**

"Couldn't be better, Mr. Schue," Sam said, forcing a smile.

"Excellent."

**

* * *

LEVEL 6: CHOIR ROOM**

"Hey, Mike," Sam sighed as he walked in, then did a double take. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, right. You guys haven't actually met..." Mike cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sam Evans, meet Matt Rutherford. Matt, Sam."

** Mike Chang & Matt Rutherford  
Relationship: Co-dependent "bromance"  
Skills: +200 Dancing**

Sam shook hands with Matt, who did nothing more than nod gruffly.

"He doesn't like to talk too much," Mike acknowledged. "Matt here transferred a while back, but he's back here on special business."

"The special business of kicking my ass?" Sam asked, deadpan.

Mike laughed. "Not exactly."

"Then tell me, in what ridiculous way are you two Kurt's exes?" Sam asked, crossing his arms.

Matt shuffled his feet awkwardly, as beside him, Mike explained, "Back before I was dating Tina, Matt and I kinda had a thing going. It ended last spring, but before it did, we thought it'd be cool to have a threesome with Kurt, so we invited him."

"And what was his reaction?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Well, he turned red, then sputtered for a long time, then finally said 'no'," Mike said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But he was definitely interested, so we decided that it totally counts."

Sam stared at him. "That's insane. All of these are insane," he finally said. "Kurt hasn't even had a boyfriend and all of you are claiming you're his exes. Just how many people am I gonna have to fight?"

"Don't worry; we're the last ones," Mike smiled; then his face fell. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"What, worried it'll give me that last boost of confidence that I so desperately need?" Sam asked, finding despite himself that it was doing just that.

"...Yeah, pretty much." Regaining their bravado, Mike and Matt struck a pose: one arm stuck out in front of them, the other behind them, bent at the elbow, fingers splayed. "Sam Evans, we challenge you... to a _dance-off._"

Again out of nowhere, a rapid dance beatstarted to play, and Mike and Matt began to move. Sam watched, open-mouthed, as they did a series of ridiculously complicated dance moves, the floor underneath them lighting up with pink and blue arrows that they hit perfectly with every beat. The words "**GOOD!" **and "**EXCELLENT!**" and "**PERFECT!**" appeared above them as they did so.

Sam noticed a buzzing noise, and looked down abruptly to see his own dance pad beneath his feet; since he wasn't moving, it was flashing red and the word "**BAD!"** was floating in front of his eyes. Hastily, he fell in step; but he wasn't doing as well as Mike and Matt, earning at best an "**OK**" or, if he was really lucky, a "**GOOD!"** In front of him, Mike and Matt smirked.

"Give it up, Evans; you can't handle us. We're built to dance!" Mike said, as he and Matt hit another complicated sequence of arrows with "**PERFECT!**" "As soon as the beat drops, competition's over and we'll have won!"

He pointed to a center spot above their heads; a score was being tallied; Mike and Matt stood at 1000, while Sam had barely passed 300.

But there was another, smaller score point... as Sam squinted, he noticed that there was a small box that was labeled, "SINGING BONUS". Both his and his opponents' rested at 0.

Sam looked down with a triumphant smile. He knew this beat! Without a moment's hesitation, he began to sing.

"_No-no, no-no-no, no, no-no-no, no, no-no there's no limit..._"

Mike and Matt exchanged glances; they looked panicked. "I thought I told you to pick a dance song without words!" Mike shouted, and Matt shrugged.

"_No, no limits, we'll reach for the sky! No valley too deep; no mountain too high. No, no limits, we'll reach for the sky! We do what we want, and we do it with pride!_"

As Sam's confidence grew, his "SINGING BONUS" ratcheted up to 2000. He was now just trailing behind Mike and Matt, who had 3000 total. "How's your singing?" Sam asked his opponents in the instrumental break, knowing full well the answer.

"We don't really... do that," Mike admitted truthfully, and Matt elbowed him. Sam grinned, and came back in as the beat cycled back around:

"_No, no limits, we'll reach for the sky! No valley too deep; no mountain too high. No, no limits, we'll reach for the sky! We do what we want, and we do it with pride!_"

So bolstered was Sam that he landed his last set of moves beautifully, a gigantic "**PERFECT!**" flashing in the air above him. Panting, he looked up, watching the final scores being tallied...

** Mike & Matt: 5000  
Singing Bonus: 0  
Total: 5000**

** Sam Evans: 2400  
Singing Bonus: 3600  
Total: 6000**

Mike and Matt barely had time to gape, flabbergasted, at Sam before they exploded in a shower of coins — and then immediately reappeared among them, looking sheepish.

Sam blinked, uncomprehending, before he realized. "Right — choir room — home base," he muttered.

Mike and Matt examined their limbs idly as coins continued to rain down around them. "Did you regenerate okay?" Mike asked Matt, who nodded. "Good. Wouldn't want to have lost a finger or something."

Behind them, a bright "**+5000**" appeared, then counted itself up until it was at "**+6000**".

Slowly, Mike looked up at Sam. "Well, congrats, Sam. Looks like you passed the test."

Sam, still panting heavily from his effort, nodded. "I guess so."

Mike pointed. "Dude, extra life. Not that you really need it now, but — heck, I'd take it."

Sam looked to his left; floating in the air beside him was a little pixelated version of his head. He reached up and clasped his hand around it; it disappeared with a blip.

"I guess you should track down Kurt and tell him that you two are cleared to date," Mike said, smiling. "Even though you totally cheated on that last challenge," he added, pointing at their scoreboard.

"I did not," Sam said halfheartedly. "And I don't even know where Kurt is."

"I do," came a voice, and Sam looked over to the door to see Tina, scrutinizing them all intently.

** Tina Cohen-Chang  
Personality Type: Goth  
Fun fact: SHE'S ASIAN!1!**

"Sam, you're going to want to head to the football field, and fast. Some bad stuff is about to go down."

Without another word, Sam bolted out the door. Behind him, Tina, Mike and Matt scrambled to follow, but as the four of them reached the hallway, Sam turned around and held up a hand.

"I've got this, you guys," he said.

"But Sam—" Mike started.

"I can handle it!" Sam called back, and resumed running, leaving his three confused friends behind him.

**

* * *

LEVEL 7: FOOTBALL FIELD**

"Kurt?" Sam shouted as jogged rapidly out towards the field, glancing around. All seemed quiet; the area was deserted. Except for—

Sam broke back into a run as he noticed a small form in the middle of the football field, unmoving. "Kurt!" he yelled, panicking. "_Kurt!_"

Soon he'd reached the smaller boy. Kurt was unconscious and lying on his side. His hands and feet were both bound tightly with rope, and there was a piece of fabric stretched over his mouth. Sam fell to his knees and and hastily undid it; Kurt still didn't move, though, and Sam reached for the rope on his hands when —

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came a dark voice.

Sam froze. He looked around the deserted field: no one. Sam rose to his feet and addressed the empty air. "Who's there?" he called, trying to sound braver than he felt.

Silence. And then he heard a dark chuckle.

"Who's there?" he called again, louder this time.

"Sam, get out of here," came a whisper, and Sam whirled around. Kurt had regained consciousness: his face was ashen. "Seriously. Just _go—"_

_WHAM!_

"AAAAH!" shrieked Sam as he was hurled into the air. He sailed straight through the goalpost at the end of the field, earning him a "**+1 EXTRA POINT**", before he landed on his back. The wind was knocked out of his lungs and he gasped like a dying fish, as above him, a familiar, hulking figure stepped into view.

** David Karofsky  
Status: Closeted Jock  
Rating: Very much **_**not**_** awesome**

"Hey there, Evans," Karofksy smirked. "Welcome to Level 7. I'm Kurt Hummel's last evil ex-boyfriend."

"Seven deadly exes," Sam whispered, scrambling to his feet.

"It's not true, Sam, don't _listen_ to him!" Kurt shouted weakly from his place on the field.

"You really don't know when to take a fucking hint, do you?" Karofsky said lowly, stepping forward as Sam stepped back. "The entire damn _Glee Club_ tried to get you to stop dating this fag, and they're supposed to be your friends or something. What's it gonna take, huh? Do I have to have The Fury pound the message into your skull?"

By this time, the two of them had made their way back to the center of the football field; Sam glanced over his shoulder at Kurt, confused.

"The Fury is his fist," Kurt explained lowly.

"That's right," Karofsky said, cracking his knuckles. "And it's about to be unleashed."

"Look, Karofksy, I don't know what you're smoking... but I'm pretty sure you're _not_ one of Kurt's evil exes," Sam said, holding his hands up. "So why don't we—"

"He kissed me," Kurt blurted out, tears stinging his eyes.

Sam blinked, turning around to look at Kurt. "What?"

"He kissed me and then he threatened to kill me if I told anyone," Kurt whispered, not meeting Sam's gaze. "It's why I transferred."

"Maybe you should've stayed away." Karofsky laughed without humor. "But on the other hand, I'm glad you didn't. Now I can have you all to myself."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Sam said, and he instead advanced on Karofsky, not pausing as he raised a fist and punched him in the face.

Karofsky's head snapped back, then forward again in an instant. "Wrong move, bud."

With a **WHAM** that appeared above their heads, Karofsky drove his foot into Sam's stomach, causing him to fly backward through the other goalpost (earning him another point). Sam collapsed at the end of the field in a heap as Kurt watched from his place in the center, white-faced. Karofsky grabbed Kurt's chin and forced him to look up into his face.

"Don't move, darlin'," he said flirtatiously, then went for Sam.

Groaning, Sam rose to his feet and brushed himself off. He looked up, and suddenly Karofsky was upon him, grabbing Sam's neck with one hand and lifting him upward. Sam, choking, reached his hands up to try and pry Karofsky off, with no effect. His feet kicked empty air uselessly.

"Why do you have to be so dedicated to this fag, anyway?" Karofsky asked lowly, as Sam kicked and gagged. "Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone?"

Sam swallowed and his face grew hard. "Because I'm in love with him."

Suddenly a bright beam of light appeared between them, and Karofsky was thrown backwards. Sam fell to the ground and stared down at his chest in bewilderment: a sword was blossoming out of it. He clenched the handle and pulled; a long blade spiraled out of him, orange flames enveloping it.

_**Sam Evans earned the power of love!  
Guts: +3  
Heart: +2  
Smarts: +4  
Will: +4**_

"Oh, _that's_ cute," Karofsky scowled as he struggled to his feet. "You're in love with the guy and you're not even dating him yet. Not creepy at _all_._"_

"It's way less creepy than anything you've done!" Kurt shouted from behind them. "And I want my wedding cake topper back, you cretin!"

"I've known Kurt for a while," Sam said, twirling the flaming blade in front of him as he advanced on Karofsky. "I can even remember the exact moment I started to fall in love with him, back in the locker room. ... It's less dirty than it sounds."

**FLASHBACK!**

"_You know, they make special shampoos for dyed hair," Kurt said, before smirking and turning away from a grinning Sam._

"_I don't dye my hair," Sam called after him, hearing only a skeptical "Uh-huh," in response. Sam laughed as he turned back to the shower, running his fingers through his (lemon-juiced) hair, still seeing Kurt's amused smirk behind his closed eyes._

**END OF FLASHBACK!**

"Gag, barf, etc," Karofsky said. "You homos are all alike."

"It's shame you're one of us," Sam shot back, and then he raised his sword and charged forward with a battle cry.

But Karofsky was ready, and dodged the flaming sword, rolling forward on the grass. Sam was sent spiraling through the air and he landed on his feet back in the center of the field beside Kurt, who was working frantically to get the ropes around his wrists undone. Sam reached a hand out to help — and then Karofsky scrambled to his feet and snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, the rest of the football team (sans Finn, Puck, Artie and Mike) emerged from behind the bleachers, somersaulting and doing backflips as they circled up around Sam and Kurt. Sam ducked, and several of them flew above his head, dodging each other's bodies artfully. Kurt ducked and rolled on the ground, away from the jocks, still struggling madly with the ropes.

Behind him, Sam jumped into the air and did a backflip, bringing the sword down on one of the football players, who disappeared in a shower of coins. Sam whipped the sword to his left, then his right, then left and then right again, sending more and more players exploding into money with each stroke. But the jocks kept coming, and Sam arched his back, placing one hand on the ground as they leaped over him. Sam brought his sword straight up and four more of his opponents collided with it, disappearing into the shower of coins. Sam did another backflip, then somersaulted through the air, cutting the sword through five more jocks in rapid succession. Sam landed perfectly on his feet; this earned him a **"SUPER AWESOME! +300**", and Sam, bolstered, turned back to the crowd of opponents.

Surprisingly, the crowd had thinned to one: Azimio. Sam reached up, bent his sword blade into a boomerang, and threw it. The sword sliced through the air, cutting Azimio down before he even had time to react; then it sailed back to Sam, who grabbed its handle and shook, straightening the blade again. Above him, the words "**BOOMERANG BONUS! +800**," appeared.

Karofsky was left alone in the center of the field, stunned; Sam let out a roar and leaped forward, bringing the sword up above his head. In turn, Karofsky pulled a hockey stick from behind his back and leapt as well. The two of them met in midair, and Sam swung his sword downward; Karofsky reached up and blocked it with the hockey stick before kicking Sam hard in the stomach, sending him spiraling back toward the ground. Sam landed hard and skidded, cutting a muddy path through the grass before he scrambled to his feet, as Karofsky landed in front of him.

The two dueled, exchanging blows with the sword and stick, as behind them, Kurt used his teeth to pull at the ropes. Karofsky seemed to anticipate Sam's every move — wherever the flaming sword went, he was there to block it. Sam idly wondered how Karofsky could swat it away with his wooden hockey stick, but then he remembered that ice was the natural enemy of fire and it all made sense.

This moment of reflection cost him dearly, and Karofsky, with a yell, brought the hockey stick down toward Sam's head. Sam raised his sword to block it and it shattered, bursting into little hearts as he fell to the ground. The hearts scattered the grass around him and disappeared as Sam looked up, coughing.

"Oh, Ladylips," Karofsky said, running a finger idly along the edge of the stick. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

Suddenly, the hockey stick flew out of his hand.

"What—" Karofsky started, turning around, and he was abruptly shoved backward; Sam hastily rolled away as the other boy hit the ground where he'd been only seconds before. Three heads whipped around, toward the direction from which the blow had come, and saw—

"_Blaine?"_ Kurt gasped.

** Blaine [Last Name Unknown]  
Status: Dalton Student  
Sexuality: Incredibly gay**

The boy in the Dalton uniform was holding a narrow stick of wood out in front of him.

"Get away from them," he said, evenly.

Karofsky snarled and grabbed the hockey stick from the ground beside him, but before he could even move it—

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_" Blaine shouted, and the end of his own stick glowed. It was a _wand_, Sam realized, as the hockey stick again flew out of Karofsky's hand; this time it went toward Blaine, who caught it with a smirk.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Blaine asked him, in that same even tone.

"Fuck you!" Karofsky spat, struggling to his feet.

"As much as I'm sure you'd like that, I'll have to decline," Blaine said, breaking the hockey stick over his knee; Karofsky howled in rage. "Kurt, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Kurt said, breathlessly. "Blaine, what are you _doing_ here?"

"_Diffindo_," Blaine said, flicking the wand, and the ropes around Kurt's hands and feet snapped and fell to the ground. "I heard about a ridiculous League of Kurt's evil exes, and even though I don't happen to be one of them, I figured I should be around to see the results," he said with a smile.

Kurt ran to him and embraced him; Sam struggled to ignore them as he got to his feet unsteadily, though the large "**+5 to Jealousy**" sign above his head probably wasn't helping. "You... have a wand," he said, confused.

"Well, of course," Blaine said, waving it. "I also have an Invisibility Cloak", he gestured to the shimmery fabric he was carrying under one arm, "which is quite effective in sneaking up on opponents like this brute here. It's only fitting to have such things; after all... I _am_ Harry Freakin' Potter."

Kurt started cracking up at the reference, but Sam very clearly did not get it.

"Anyway, you must be Sam — _Petrificus Totalus_," Blaine added, and Karofsky froze from where he'd been advancing on Sam with a roar of anger that was cut short. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Do I have to fight you to date Kurt, too?" Sam asked, wearily.

Blaine smiled again. "Do you love him?"

"Yes," Sam said immediately.

"Then no."

Relief rushed through Sam, so much so that he felt light-headed. "Thank God."

"However, you still have to defeat this roaring man-beast," Blaine said, gesturing to Karofsky, who was still frozen in mute rage. "Though with my Petrifying spell on him, that should prove to be fairly easy."

Silence for a moment. Then —

"No," Sam said. "This is something I have to do myself."

"Sam, are you crazy?" Kurt screeched. "He'll kill you!"

"Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. Unfreeze him, Blaine," Sam stated.

"I really don't think—" Blaine started.

"Do it!" Sam shouted, and Kurt visibly blanched.

"Your funeral," Blaine said lightly, and flicked the wand.

Karofsky unfroze and, with a roar, threw himself at Sam. Sam gritted his teeth and equaled the motion, the two of them wrestling frantically, vying for control. They grappled for several moments, never breaking their grip on one another. (Sam noticed, with **+200 to disgust**, that it was turning Karofsky on.)

"What do you think's gonna happen here, anyway?" Sam gasped as they wrestled. "If you kill me, I'll just regenerate in the choir room and come back here to kick your ass."

"Not likely, Evans; this is _your_ dating game," Karofsky retorted, struggling madly as well.

Sam stopped — just for a moment. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that you die, and it's game over," Karofsky smirked, and headbutted him.

Sam flew back, clutching his head and howling in pain. Karofsky landed another punch to his stomach; then as Sam bent forward, he drove his fist upward. Sam flew backward, spiraling through the air before landing in a heap. Kurt and Blaine gasped, and ran for him — but Karofsky was between them, and he reached an arm out and shoved the two of them away. The wand flew out of Blaine's hand and Karofsky grabbed it, pointing it down at the defeated Sam.

"Later, homo," Karofsky said, then, _"Avada Kedavra!_"

* * *

Sam was in a desert. Oh, wasn't that just peachy.

"Sorry," came a soft, echoing voice, and Kurt was suddenly standing in front of him, helping him to his feet. "Dying probably isn't fun."

"Not very," Sam agreed. "But you know what's worse? Not being around to finally date you."

"For what it's worth," Kurt said, smiling, "My answer would have been yes. That's what I was heading to tell you when Karofsky... grabbed me."

"That's good to know," Sam said. "I really thought I had him, for a moment there..."

"You almost did," Kurt acknowledged. "But, Sam?"

"Hmmm?"

"Glee Club is about being a _team_," Kurt said, gently. "That's why you've had to battle so many people just to get near me, it's why I came back here in the first place, and it's why you lost. You never let other people help you; you have to be the one to do everything yourself. Do you remember when we did 'Rocky Horror'? You were so obsessed with making yourself look perfect that you wouldn't trust anybody's advice but your own."

"I just wanted to take care of myself. And you," Sam muttered, not looking at Kurt.

"Maybe I don't need to be taken care of," Kurt said, lightly. "Glee Club sticks together, Sam. I'm part of it, and so are you. _That's_ what I missed most at Dalton — the sense of camaraderie. The sense that no matter what happens, we've got each other's backs. That was something Blaine could never promise me when I was with the Warblers, and it's why he turned me down. But I know you — you're smart, and with us backing you up, you _can_ win this fight."

"I'm dead. What makes you say that?" Sam asked.

"This," said Kurt, and he held up Sam's extra life.

**

* * *

X2 BONUS  
X2 BONUS  
X2 BONUS**

**LEVEL 7: FOOTBALL FIELD**

"_Kurt!_" Sam shouted, striding purposefully forward, right to the center of the field where he knew Kurt was. He immediately kneeled down and undid the tie around the other boy's mouth. He was just reaching for Kurt's hands when—

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Save it," Sam shouted back, and untied the knots on Kurt's hands in one fluid motion, before doing the same on the ones around Kurt's feet. "Wake up, Kurt," Sam said, lightly tapping the boy's cheek; when Kurt's eyes fluttered open, Sam helped him up, then looked him straight in the face.

"Kurt, I really, really want to date you," Sam said, and Kurt blinked. "I'll even fight a million deadly evil exes if I have to, 'cause I'm a little in love with you and nothing's gonna change that. So, what do you say we kick this guy's ass and then go get a pizza?"

Kurt hesitated a moment — but then his face split into a wide grin. "I'd say it's about damn time."

Sam smiled, and Kurt laughed. Beneath them, the words "**2 PLAYER MODE**" appeared in bright blue letters.

Sam pointed. "Behind you."

Kurt spun around and lashed out with a kick; Karofsky, who had appeared behind him, was sent flying, straight through the goalpost at the end of the field. This earned the two of them "**+3 EXTRA POINTS**", and Sam and Kurt high-fived.

"Blaine!" Sam called out, to Kurt's confusion. "I know you're out here. Toss me your wand for a second!"

There was no response for a moment; then the air in front of them parted, and Blaine stepped out from underneath his invisibility cloak and threw his wand toward Sam. Sam caught it, raised it, and grinned at Kurt.

"_Accio Glee Club!_"

With that, he tossed the wand back to Blaine, who caught it, smiling. "Sam Evans?"

"Much obliged," said Sam, sticking his hand out, and Blaine shook it. The words "**MULTIPLAYER MODE**" appeared beneath them.

"Hey, dudes," snarled a voice, and Sam whirled around. Karofsky was standing behind them. His shirt was dirty: Kurt had left a footprint sprawled across its center. "I thought Evans and me had a fight going on here!"

"You've got a fight," Sam said, "but it's not with just me." Beside him, Kurt and Blaine nodded fiercely.

Abruptly, Sam was thrown backward again. Another sword was blossoming out of his chest, this one's flames bright purple.

_**Sam Evans earned the power of teamwork!  
Guts: +5  
Heart: +6  
Smarts: +7  
Balls: +8**_

Sam pulled the sword out, the flames illuminating his face as he glared at Karofsky. Karofsky just smirked. "Wrong move, bud," he growled, with a snap of his fingers.

But Sam was prepared this time: As the rest of the football team emerged from behind the bleachers again, somersaulting and flipping their way toward the center of the field, Sam glanced to Blaine, then Kurt. "I'll take the ones on the left; Kurt, you take the ones on the right. Blaine, get anyone who's left over. Got it?"

Kurt smiled and raised his fists. "Oh, have we got this."

With matching battle cries, the three of them descended on the jocks.

**SEVERAL COMPLETELY BADASS SECONDS LATER**

**Sam Evans: +2200  
Kurt Hummel: +2500  
Blaine [Last Name Unknown]: +2000**

Karofsky blinked. In front of him, Sam twirled his sword, the purple flames around it dancing artfully; Kurt pulled an emery board out of his pocket and began inspecting his (only mildly scratched) fingernails; and Blaine lowered his wand, the end of which was glowing. All the while, coins drifted idly through the air surrounding the three of them. Karofsky narrowed his eyes and pulled out his hockey stick.

"Where was he keeping that?" Blaine asked Kurt, who shrugged.

"I'm gonna kill you homos!" Karofsky snarled as he surged forward, bringing his hockey stick up high above his head. "_Eat shit and die, fags!_"

"Oh, the cleverness of your insults," Blaine deadpanned, flicking his wand. "_Expelliarmus_!" The hockey stick flew out of Karofsky's hands; Blaine pointed at it with his wand as is soared through the air. "_Finite Incantantem!_"

The hockey stick exploded into fiery, twisted pieces of wood that rained down around the four of them. "**+400**" appeared above Blaine's head. Karofsky barely had time to gape at it before Sam and Kurt were upon him.

_WHAM!_

A dozen deadly blows landed all over Karofsky in rapid sequence, delivered on opposing sides with Kurt on the left and Sam on the right. Karofsky was tossed back and forth between the two boys as punch after punch was thrown. Finally, Kurt lashed out with a kick that went directly into Karofsky's stomach; when he doubled over and fell, Kurt grabbed his legs and kicked him him again. Karofsky flew over Sam's head and Sam grabbed his ankle as it passed by and slammed him down into the dirt.

**COMBO! +3000**

Karofsky raised his head up; his face was streaked with dirt and he wobbled unsteadily as he struggled to his feet. "_YOU_," he snarled, shoving past Sam and lunging for Kurt, hands outstretched. "This is all your fault, you _fucking queer_—"

"Ahem."

Karofsky was tapped on the shoulder, and he spun around, confused.

"Get your damn hands _AWAY FROM MY BOY," _Mercedes shouted, and she punched him in the face.

**(AND IT WAS REALLY AWESOME)**

Karofsky was sent reeling, back to the twenty-yard line, but Rachel was standing there, waiting for him. She looked down at Karofsky as he landed at her feet, unperturbed.

"While I normally don't approve of violence, I do have to say that this was a very long time in coming," she said, and brought her foot down on Karofsky's stomach.

Wheezing, Karofsky sat up and doubled over, as Rachel ran over to Mercedes and the two of them bumped fists. Behind them, the rest of the Glee Club came spilling out onto the field. Puck cracked his knuckles; Mike and Matt exchanged glances and nodded briefly, obviously strategizing; Santana and Brittany, pinkies interlocked, looked ready to kill from sheer bitchface alone; Finn pushed Artie in his wheelchair while Artie got ready to power up the robot device again; and Tina did a handful of somersaults and cartwheels before landing in a spread-eagle split worthy of the Cheerios, fists raised and ready for a fight.

"Hi guys," Kurt said, waving.

"You think you've won?" Karofsky shouted as he stood. There was a large scratch mark on his temple. "I can still take you!" he shouted, raising his fists. "I can take all of you!"

"I highly doubt that," came a cool, perfectly collected voice, and everyone's heads whipped to the bleachers to see Quinn leaping into a backflip. She twirled through the air and came down on Karofsky's shoulders. Karofsky, hollering, attempted to throw her off, but Quinn held firm, raking her knuckles across his face and drawing blood — earning her a "**+3000**". Quinn jumped; Sam caught her perfectly, locking eyes with her.

"Sam," Quinn eventually said, levelly.

"Quinn," Sam acknowledged, putting her down without a word.

They looked at each other for a moment, the tension in the air palpable.

"I — thanks," Sam muttered, eventually.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said in response. "For — you know."

Sam was spared from further awkwardness by Kurt, who tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Karofsky. "Watch out."

Karofsky was digging through his pockets frantically, pulling out a water bottle with **+10 to healing**; as he drank it, the gashes on his face closed up and healed over. Beneath him, a health bar appeared; slowly it moved from **25%** to **50%**.

"Oh, come on, that is _totally_ cheating," Santana said, letting go of Brittany's pinky to cross her arms.

"Nah, it isn't," Karofsky grunted, tossing the water bottle behind him. "But this might be."

With that, Karofsky jumped into the air and brought his fists down upon the football field, hitting the very center line with a yell. Sam and the rest of the club were sent flailing as the ground beneath them split, shifting and tilting with a thunderous cracking sound. Kurt grabbed onto Sam's arm and Sam grasped his shoulder as the two of them slid, just managing to stay balanced. Sam heard the shrieked and panicked cries of the rest of the Glee club and hoped against hope that they'd be all right.

When their world finally stopped moving, Sam glanced around, taking stock of their surroundings. The football field had shifted and adjusted itself into a — well, the best Sam could describe it was a sort of rectangular pyramid, with every ten-yard line marking a new level upwards. There were five of these levels in total, and each was thinner than the one below it. Karofsky was at the very top and center, smirking down at them all.

Sam growled and tightened his grip on his sword. He looked down from his place on the fourth level, and noticed with dismay that Artie, at the very base of the pyramid, had fallen out of his wheelchair. Though he looked to be okay, the chair itself was bent and twisted and pretty much physically incapable of transformation. Finn scrambled to help Artie up.

**LEVEL 8: POWER-UP PYRAMID**

**1st Story: Finn & Artie (left side); Santana & Brittany (right side)  
2nd Story: Tina & Puck (left side); Mike & Matt (right side)  
3rd Story: Rachel (left side); Mercedes (right side)  
4th Story: Sam & Kurt (left side); Blaine (right side)  
5th Story: Karofsky (center)**

"Well, damn," Puck said nonchalantly, glancing upwards.

"This looks like a giant wedding cake," Brittany mused, as she examined the pyramid. "A green one."

"How much do Kurt and Sam and Blaine have to _own_ your ass before you'll just _stay down?_" Finn shouted angrily up at Karofsky.

"You can't keep The Fury down, Hudson," Karofsky retorted, cracking his knuckles.

"We'll see about that!" Tina yelled, and jumped up toward Karofsky. "_Let's do this!_"

Karofsky reached up and blocked her kick, but her words had spurred the other Glee Club members to action, and they too began climbing upwards to join the fight. Finn and Artie (who was sitting on Finn's shoulders) exchanged several blows with Karofsky before they were punched backward, falling off the top of the pyramid; Mike and Matt attacked him from both sides, both getting some good blows in, before Karofsky lashed out with both fists and sent them flying as well. Puck was next: he growled and surged forward, grabbing Karofsky's waist to body-slam him, but Karofsky did a flip over him and kicked Puck in the small of his back, sending him careening back to the second story of the pyramid.

Mercedes and Rachel were the next to climb up, and the two of them tried a different tactic: as Karofsky whirled around to face them, they both opened their mouths and let loose the highest, loudest note that Sam had ever heard in his life. Karofsky squealed like a pig and crouched down, clasping his hands over his ears. Rachel and Mercedes surged forward, still singing, and a bar appeared above their heads informing them that they were **hitting a high C**, and earning **+200 points per second**. Still they continued on; but Karofsky gritted his teeth, uncovered one of his ears, and punched Rachel in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Mercedes immediately stopped singing and caught Rachel as her knees buckled, and Karofsky threw them both off of the top of the pyramid.

He turned around and looked down, noting the other Glee Club members staring at him in utter disgust.

"What?" Karofsky asked nonchalantly. "The Fury's not afraid to hit a girl."

"Maybe _The Fury_ should be," growled Santana as she and Brittany reached the top, and she grabbed Karofsky from behind, twisting his arms behind his back and bending him over. Brittany took this opportunity to bite Karofsky's knees, and Karofsky howled in pain. With a surge of effort, the football player bucked upward, throwing the both of them off the top as well. Blaine scrambled upward as they fell past him.

On the level beneath, Sam and Kurt exchanged glances. "It's not working," Kurt reported quietly. "As long as he's at the top of the pyramid, he can keep picking us off one by one."

"We've got to try," Sam said determinedly. He raised his flaming sword high above his head and jumped.

"_Sam, DON'T!_" Kurt shouted, and Karofsky turned from where he'd just snatched Blaine's wand away from him.

"_Finite Incantantem!"_ Karofsky shouted, pointing the wand. The sword in Sam's hands shattered and he sailed past Karofsky, right over the top of the pyramid, before he landed and tumbled bodily down its side. As Sam fell to the last level, his body began blinking red.

Karofsky turned: Kurt was climbing up to the top level, staring at him unblinkingly. Sam raised his head just in time to see Kurt — rather than attack Karofsky — put his arms around the other boy's shoulders. Kurt's smile was close-lipped and tight; as Sam watched, Kurt leaned in toward Karofsky's face.

"_That's_ my man," Karofsky grunted, grinning. "Knew I'd win you over with my moves."

"I'm more of a man than you'll ever be," Kurt whispered sweetly in his ear, and kneed Karofsky in the balls.

**CROTCH SHOT! +7000**

Karofsky yelled in furious pain. As he doubled over, Blaine reached forward and grabbed his wand back. He raised it to cast a spell, but before he could, Karofsky straightened up, looked over to Blaine, and punched him in the face. Blaine flew backward, wand falling out of his hand and into Karofsky's, and Karofsky broke it in half. Blaine landed next to Sam on the ground, and the two of them exchanged glances, then looked up and gasped in horror. Karofsky had turned and socked Kurt in the jaw; as blood flew out of Kurt's mouth, a blinker appeared above him, exclaiming, "**BAD! BAD! BAD!**"

But Karofsky didn't stop. Kurt fell to the ground and Karofsky lashed out and kicked him in the side, _hard_. Kurt cried out as he tumbled down the side of the pyramid, body flashing red as well; Karofsky, enraged, leapt into the air after him.

He landed on the bottom level, next to where Kurt's body had come to rest; as Kurt groaned and looked up, he found Karofsky's foot inches from his face.

"Any last words, fairy?" Karofsky snarled.

Kurt coughed — and then, bizarrely, he smiled. "You're on our level now, sweetheart."

Karofsky barely had time to register what he'd said before the rest of the Glee Club was upon him from all sides. Karofsky was kicked and punched and thrown and bitten in every way there was, tossed around like a ragdoll amongst the thirteen enraged members of Glee.

**TEAM EFFORT! +20,000**

Finally, Sam grabbed Karofsky and forced him into a headlock; Karofsky struggled madly, but his health bar had reappeared beneath him and it was almost completely empty. He couldn't break Sam's grip.

The rest of Glee slowly stepped backward, until they were in a circle around Sam, Karofsky, and the fallen Kurt. Kurt struggled to his feet as in front of him, Karofsky begin to laugh lowly. "Who do you think you are, Hummel?" he snarled, face turning red from Sam's headlock. "You think you're better than me or something?"

"No," Kurt said simply. "I know it. Now kiss _this._"

And he lashed out with a kick that went above his own head, hitting Karofsky square in the face.

_**K.O.! +7,000,000,000**_

Karofsky dissolved into coins in Sam's arms.

* * *

After the club had gathered up the money that had appeared after Karofsky's defeat (thereby guaranteeing their staying power with Figgins for a very, very long time) and finished celebrating, Sam and Kurt found themselves alone, the last to leave the choir room after everyone else.

"I'm surprised Karofsky didn't regenerate here," Kurt remarked lightly, surveying the empty room.

"He made the locker room his home base," Sam explained, sitting down beside Kurt. "But since he sucked at it, there's a time delay. He and the other football players won't regenerate for a long time."

"That's good to know." Kurt smiled.

Silence descended upon them for a few moments, but it was comfortable, familiar. "So," Kurt said, eventually. "You've defeated the league of Seven Evil Ex-Boyfriends..."

"Exes," Sam corrected. "Brittany, remember."

"Ah. Right," Kurt said, covering his face with one hand. "I'd almost managed to repress that."

"Making out with her couldn't have been _that_ bad," Sam teased.

"She asked me to kiss her armpits."

Sam blinked. "I take it back."

There was silence for another moment, then Kurt continued. "So you've defeated the League of Seven Evil Exes, and we're now technically dating..."

"Yes?" Sam prompted.

"Does that mean we can make out now?" Kurt asked.

Sam laughed. "Thought you'd never ask," he said.

They leaned in —

* * *

— and Sam woke up.

_Dammit!_

"Sam, are you gonna sleep all _day?_" came his sister's voice, floating up from downstairs. "Just 'cause it's Saturday doesn't mean you _have_ to, you know."

"I'm getting up," Sam finally called, voice hoarse, as he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. A dream. It'd all been a deranged and incredibly fantastic _dream_. He glanced at his clock — 1:52 PM — as he tried to sort out the various memories.

It had all seemed so _real_. One thing was for certain: Dream-Sam had been remarkably forward. He hadn't wasted any time in asking Kurt out, fighting for the right to date him, and even admitting that he was in love with the guy a little bit. Frowning, Sam considered it. _Was_ he in love with Kurt? It certainly seemed possible — the dream was vivid enough — but this was the real world, where seven epic fights to the death in a row didn't usually take place, and if they did, they weren't crammed into the span of two days.

But Sam could definitely admit that he _liked_ Kurt. That was why he'd been so worried about him last night, Sam realized — he genuinely cared about Kurt and wanted to see him happy. And from the few exchanges they'd had, the two of them had gotten along remarkably well.

Sam made his decision and, with a smile, picked up his phone.

"Hey, Kurt? Yeah, it's Sam. Listen... do you wanna hang out?"

**

* * *

THE END**


End file.
